Rowan: The HobbitLOTR FanFiction
by xxletsstartariot
Summary: Rowan's parents, Naerlan and Celestania, are elven ambassadors to Erebor. Though they lived there for hundreds of years, their daughter Rowan is born only a year before Smaug took Erebor for his own. Celestania is killed while defending it, and Naerlan's grief causes him to fade and die. Rowan is left in the care of a dwarf woman named Sena. What will she do from there?
1. Prologue - Smaug Had Come

The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the North.

The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot, dry wind.

He was a fire drake from the North...

Smaug had come.

"Celestania. We must go, now."

"What do you mean go?"

"We must flee."

"This is our home, Naerlan, we cannot just leave it."

"What will we do about Rowan?"

"We will give her to Sena, Sena will care for her as if she were her own."

"But what if we fall during the attack?"

"Then we fall. I promise you, Sena will take care of her."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Celestania opened it to find a striking dwarf woman with long auburn hair. She had no beard, such things only got in the way when you were trying to treat patients.

"Sena."

"Celestania."

Naerlan approached holding the quiet infant. He kissed her brow and gave a sad smile before handing her off to Sena.

"Thank you for taking care of her."

"You're defending my home, it's the least I can do, and you would do the same for me."

"If we fall, please tell her that we loved her more than life itself."

Sena nods, and with that she is gone.

Celestania turns to face her husband. "It had to be done. If we don't defend Erebor, who will?"

"I don't know, oh! Maybe the thousands of other people who live here!"

"This is our home!"

"Yes, this is our home, but it's not where we belong! Celestania, we belong in Lorien, with your brother, or in Rivendell with my cousin."

"We have lived here for far too long to belong somewhere else!"

Naerlan nods in understanding and silently opens the chest containing his red and silver plate armor and her blue and gold scale armor.

They don their weapons and armor in silence, pack some vital belongings, and join Thorin's ranks.

Anyone that was there, even Thorin Oakenshield himself, will tell you that they watched Naerlan fade as he dragged Celestania's limp body from the wreckage.


	2. Chapter 1 - Take Back What's Ours

Chapter 1: Take Back What's Ours

Balin

"Oi! Look lads, the lass 'as finally let sleep take her!" Balin had started to worry about the elf that had been sat in the worn leather armchair by the hearth. For three days she had stayed in that chair, her spine perfectly straight, chin up, shoulders back, the whole nine yards; and for the whole three days she had held an unblinking stare directed at a pair of bellows on the opposite wall. Not once did she fidget, shift her weight, or uncross her legs. Her hands remained in her lap, her eyes remained on the wall. The only sign that she was even alive was the slight rise and fall of her chest.

Now she was entirely different. Her tall, slender body was draped sideways across the arms of the chair and her knees were pressed to her chest. Her dark green eyes were closed and rolling around wildly under the semi-transparent skin of her eyelids. Her breathing was heavier now. A tangle of wild ebony hair tumbled around her shoulders and all the way down to her hips.

Altogether she looked more, well, more like Rowan. Rowan wasn't stiff or silent, and she wasn't even all that soft spoken and polite like most elves; she was loud and outgoing and rather rude and crass from years of living among dwarves and absolutely no influence from elves.

My mother, Sena, agreed to take care of her while her parents fought Smaug. Her mother fell, and her father carried on for a time before his grief caused him to fade and die. His final wish was that the possessions he carried with him be held in Rivendell. Thrain and Thorin were reluctant to have contact with any elves but Naerlan and Celestania because of Thranduil's betrayal, but Thror (as mad as he was) wanted to honor the dying elf's final wishes. So they sent a messenger, and the messenger returned with Gandalf on the back of a giant eagle. From there the few items Naerlan became Gandalf's responsibility.

That, lads and lasses, is where I come in. When Erebor was taken I was a young dwarf of seven years. I was my parents' first son, and they knew they wanted more children, but they didn't know when; so Rowan very quickly became a sister and friend to me, and I did all I could to protect her, still do to tell you the truth.

And that is why she hadn't spoken to Dwalin and me for three days.

She had come to visit me, and we had been having a nice talk over a cup of tea when there was a knock on the door. She got up to answer it, because she was as comfortable in my house as any, and returned with none other than Thorin Oakenshield.

Thorin poured himself a cup of tea and delved into a tale about how the time was right to take back Erebor.

"The time is right, Balin, and we must act now. We must take back whatis ours! We cannot leave Erebor unguarded for anyone to slip inside and steal their weight in gold! I leave for a meeting of the Seven Kingdoms in a fortnight. You have half of that to give me your answer. Your brother has already agreed to go and I would greatly appreciate it if you came too, you're a good friend of mine and I would hate to set off without friends by my side." He then sent a warm smile to Rowan. "You're welcome too, Rowan. We could use your skills, and I find that you're good company."

Truthfully, Rowan was one of the few people that Thorin had fully warmed to. He couldn't have helped it even if he wanted to, there was this aura of magic and mystery around her that drew you in.

"No! Absolutely not. Sorry lassie, I can't let you go on this journey."

She had stared at me in shock.

"Balin, as much as I care for you, that isn't your choice. I'm a grown woman, I can make decisions for myself."

Thorin cleared his throat. "I think I best be going."

Rowan nodded. "I best be going as well."

The double meaning was clear.

After she stormed out of my house and into hers, which was right on the other side of an ancient oak tree, I went to fetch Dwalin and we went to talk some sense into her.

It didn't work out as we had hoped.

She opened the door and when she saw who it was she settled in her chair and didn't move for three days. Thorin, Dwalin, and I had been in and out of the house to make sure that she didn't do anything rash.

Anyway, back to the present.

After it was confirmed that she was (finally) asleep, Thorin, Dwalin, and I went our separate ways; but before we could part entirely, Thorin pulled us aside.

"I know that neither of you wish for her to accompany us, but if you do not change your minds, I will bring her along myself."

Dwalin spoke up, "No. She is not going and that's the final decision!"

"Suit yourselves. The wizard will designate a meeting place and I, along with Rowan, will see you both there.

We both knew that we would indeed be traveling with an elf maiden.

Rowan

How _dare_ he tell me that I was not to go on this quest? I'm not a tiny elfling that needs to be taken care of, I've been self-sufficient for a hundred and twenty-one years!

And then he _dared_ to come knocking, thinking he could berate me like a child!

Balin and Dwalin were like my brothers, but I am far old enough to manage my own affairs. Even Thorin, who was like an uncle to me, was seeing this my way.

I'm the best hunter in the Blue Mountains, the best shot with a bow (I even taught Kili), and one of the best sword fighters. I'm skilled in tracking and I speak every language of Middle Earth excluding the vile tongue of Mordor; Westron, Sindarin, Quenya, Dwarvish, Khudzul, you name it! Why wouldn't they want my help?

Of course, Balin and Dwalin were overprotective and wanted to make sure I wasn't put in harm's way, but I am able to protect myself.

I knew they would try to talk me out of it, so I sat myself down and didn't move in hopes they would see that it was useless and leave; but they didn't. There was always one of them there. Occasionally Thorin would be there too but I'm almost positive that he was trying to make sure they didn't do something to ensure that I couldn't go.

Eventually I couldn't keep my silent vigil any longer and succumbed to the darkness of my mind. It wasn't really sleep in the sense that hobbits, dwarves, and men would think. It is very similar to sleep, but elves remain very aware of their surroundings as well as their dreams.

I dreamt of the front gate of Erebor. I also dreamt of the nearby forest and the grove of Rowan trees that mother would always take me to see. That's where my name comes from. My father-name was Tamuril, but after my mother saw me climbing in the low branches of the Rowan trees, she knew what name she wished to grant me. (AN: When elves are born, they are given a name by their father [aka father-name]. After about a year they are given another name by their mother [aka mother-name]. Over the course of their lives they can give themselves a name [aka self-name] or they can be given a name by others because of their accomplishments or achievements.)

Seeing as my situation was one that had never before been heard of in the history of Middle Earth, I was something of an anomaly. So oftentimes I would be walking with Sena and whispers would follow us, whispers of "…the lass is the living embodiment of a Rowan…white as snow, with ebony hair, leaf shaded eyes, and berry lips…"

The words were spoken in Khudzul. At the time it sounded enchanting, I only knew a few words in the language so it was soothing to listen to the rough voices of the dwarves without trying to take in their words. Truthfully, the words were not rude or crass, but flattering in a way.

Anyway, in my dream I was sitting in the low branches of my favorite tree and my parents were standing in the middle of the clearing. My mother stepped forward and placed a cool hand on my cheek.

"You look just like your father. I'm proud of you, Rowan. We both are. But you have much more to do. I've come to warm you. There are many journeys in your future, and many paths to tread. Choose wisely. I also see that all but one of your journeys will take place in a short period of time, and you will have seemingly endless years of peace and plenty before following your heart onto the last ship headed to Valinor; do not hesitate to follow your heart, for it is destined to give and receive much love, and it will not lead you astray." And with that they were gone.


End file.
